Murder in the Marsh

by Sara Whitford

  When he heard women’s voices outside, he looked straight down from the window and saw Laney standing there talking to Aunt Celie about something. That woke Adam up enough that it dawned on him that he’d soon be going downstairs and would see not only Will Martin and his wife but Laney would be there.

  He instinctively reached up and grabbed at his face and rubbed his chin and cheeks. He realized he now had nearly three days’ growth of nearly black stubble, and at the rate his facial hair grew, that was far more than he wanted to have if he was going to be around Laney Martin or potentially conducting business in town.

  Adam crossed the room to the dresser and looked in the oval mirror that was mounted on the wall above it. He tucked a piece of his dark-brown hair behind his right ear and turned his head from side to side as he observed himself.

  Oh, Lord… I do look like him—especially today.

  He was thinking about his father, Santiago. For eighteen years Adam never knew the identity of the man who had married his mother, then disappeared from Beaufort before he was ever born. But just four months earlier Adam had finally found the man—in Havana, Cuba of all places—and within days had to say good-bye to him, as he was suffering from the ever-worsening effects of a fatal gunshot wound. His father had begged him not to stay around to watch him die but to remember him as he was alive, so that was what Adam had done. But now that he was back in North Carolina, it was as if he saw Santiago’s face almost every time he looked in the mirror. Especially when his stubble was creating a dark shadow that drew attention to his chiseled cheekbones. Adam’s shoulder-length wavy, nearly black hair, tangled and hanging down around his face in the morning, seemed to double the effect.

  Just thinking back on the short time he had with his father, Adam suddenly didn’t care who saw him like this. He would just run a comb back through his hair and put it in a ponytail. That would have to be good enough.

  He washed his face and finished getting dressed, then tapped at the foot of the bed where Martin slept to let him know he would be heading downstairs. Martin just mumbled something unintelligible, so Adam left him there.

  As soon as he got downstairs, he saw Will and Catherine sitting at the dining room table, having breakfast.

  “Good morning,” he said to them.

  Will invited him to sit down and eat, so Adam thanked him and took a seat.

  “Where’s my cousin?” Will asked.

  Adam gave him a half smile. “He’s still asleep. I tried to wake him. Maybe he’ll be down soon.”

  Catherine offered Adam a cup of tea, then called into the adjacent room for someone named Annabelle to bring him breakfast.

  A woman’s voice from the other room responded, “Yes’m. Be right there.”

  After a moment or two a young servant woman of about Adam’s age came into the room carrying a tray of food. Annabelle’s light skin color and blue eyes, paired with exceedingly curly black hair, suggested she had mixed African and European heritage. She placed a plate of eggs and sausage, along with a bowl of grits, in front of Adam. She then asked Will and Catherine if they needed anything else. Catherine shook her head, so Annabelle took their dishes away.

  After bowing his head to quickly say grace, Adam looked around the room as he started eating and observed, “Your home is beautiful. I was admiring your garden from the window upstairs. Seems a smart use of a small space.”

  Will chuckled. “Thank you. It was… well… different getting used to living here after being raised on my father’s estate. To go from growing up on fifty sprawling acres to squeezing into less than an acre—it took some getting used to.” He waved his hand to motion proudly at his wife. “But Catherine here was raised in the city, so she was very accustomed to making efficient use of a small plot.”

  “Oh really?” said Adam. He nodded and smiled as though he was finally understanding something that had been perplexing him. “I had suspected she wasn’t raised around here.” He turned his attention to Catherine. “Where did you grow up, Miss Catherine?” He continued eating.

  Catherine gave a little laugh and said, “I suppose my manner of speaking must give it away.”

  Adam grinned but didn’t say anything but “Mm-hmm,” since his mouth was full.

  “I was born in Boston,” she said. “My father was a merchant—not unlike your master, Emmanuel Rogers, from what I hear.”

  Will raised his eyebrows in surprise and leaned back in his chair and looked at his wife. “Well, dear, Emmanuel is a merchant, yes, but your father’s business was probably ten times as large as Rogers’s Shipping Company—at least!”

  Adam swallowed hard, and his eyes grew large as he looked from Will to Catherine. “Are you being serious?!”

  “Of course I’m being serious,” said Will. “Boston’s a big city with a great population. Beaufort is just a small, inconsequential little town that in spite of being right near the ocean can’t even attract merchant ships as easily as this town a full fifty or so miles from the sea!”

  “Aw…” Adam shook his head. “Now that’s not fair. You know as well as I do that Beaufort has the best harbor along the whole coast of this colony—better than even Wilmington! We can’t help it that there are no rivers going inland from there. Beaufort would probably be as fine a port as Charleston—or Boston—if there were!”

  Will chuckled and tipped his head in Adam’s direction as he looked at Catherine. “This one was born and raised in Carteret County—and is sure proud of it, if you can’t tell!”

  Adam rolled his eyes.

  Catherine looked like she was trying hard not to giggle. “Oh, Adam! Don’t pay him a bit of mind if he’s making jokes about your home port! He forgets that I know he was born there, too—and I’m sure Beaufort is a lovely town.” She looked teasingly at her husband. “Although Will has never seen fit to take me beyond the perimeter of his family’s estate there.”

  Will shook his head. “I’ve told you, dear. There’s really nothing to see in Beaufort. Just hogs running loose in the streets mostly—and we can see those sights right here in New Bern.”

  Adam stabbed one of the pieces of sausage on his plate with a fork, then held it up and grinned before taking a big bite. “How true! At least they’re tasty little beasts!”

  He couldn’t help but laugh, particularly since just the night before Charles Jr.’s carriage had to stop for Charles Jr. to shoo away some hogs that were milling around in the street, eating some scraps that someone had thrown out. Will and Catherine laughed right along with him.

  Just then Laney came into the dining room. “What are y’all cutting up about in here?”

  “Oh, nothing really.” Adam grinned. “Your brother was just talking about how the livestock that runs wild in the streets here in New Bern reminds him of home.”

  Laney made a disgusted face as she pulled out the chair next to her sister-in-law and took a seat. “You’d think things’d be more civilized here in the capital.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Will agreed.

  “Where’s my lazy cousin?” Laney asked Adam.

  Adam shrugged, then motioned upstairs. “Sleeping the day away, I reckon.”

  “Of course he is,” said Laney. “Why did I even bother asking? I reckon he went on a drunk last night and he’s sleeping it off this morning.”

  “Laney!” Will exclaimed, making it clear that he couldn’t believe she’d say something so coarse.

  Laney looked at her brother matter-of-factly and said, “What? You know it’s the truth. Martin is happiest when he’s dipped his bill!”

  “Laney! I declare! That’s enough!” Will sounded as though he was trying to chastise her, but he was too amused to come off as serious.

  Catherine could barely contain herself, so as not to make the situation spiral into much silliness, she graciously excused herself from the room to go see if she could assist Annabelle.

  Adam was shocked, but humorously so. He never tho
ught he’d hear Laney use a phrase like that to describe a drunken state.

  “Where in the world did you hear something like that?” he asked.

  Laney leveled her eyes at him and said, “What? You think I don’t pay attention when you boys are over on my dock for Emmanuel, unloading those secret shipments, running your mouths like y’all tend to do.” She tapped her right ear with her fingertip. “I listen to y’all… Just you keep that in mind when you think you’re having private conversations.” She gave him a smile and a nod.

  Adam raised his eyebrows and grinned at her. “Hmm… I’ll have to remember that then, missy, and be careful what I say around you!”

  Chapter Four

  AS SOON AS ADAM FINISHED with his breakfast, Laney said she wanted to go shopping, and Catherine agreed that it would be fun, so Will asked Adam if he and Martin wouldn’t mind taking his carriage and dropping the ladies off in front of the shops over on Craven Street. He explained that he had to leave for a meeting with one of his clients about an estate sale, but it was in the opposite direction and he could easily walk to it, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to take them.

  Ordinarily, Catherine could’ve gotten Charles to do it, but he had other work to attend to that morning and had been promised the rest of the day off, since it was his mother’s first day visiting. Adam was more than happy to oblige, but he’d have to wake up Martin first.

  It was no small task, but finally Martin was up and fed, and they were on their way.

  Craven Street was three blocks away from the Martins’ home and only one block from the riverfront. There weren’t many shops, but the ones that were there had a great variety of imported items. Beaufort had its imports as well, but not as many and not in such diversity as could be found in the New Bern shops.

  Adam was interested in visiting the local merchants to see if there were any items he could suggest to Emmanuel, but he remembered what Will had said about James Davis’s print shop—and he knew that had interested Martin—so they decided they would go there first while the ladies took their time browsing.

  “Where are you boys from?” said Mr. Davis, a middle-aged man overseeing a young fellow of about sixteen as the boy banged the surface of the type on the galley with a pad of black ink.

  Adam assumed the boy was the man’s apprentice.

  “Beaufort, sir,” said Martin.

  Adam was so fascinated with seeing a printing press in action for the first time that he hadn’t paid much attention to the question.

  “Are you here on business or for pleasure?” Mr. Davis asked.

  “A little of both,” Martin responded.

  “You know,” said Adam, without looking up from watching the young man blot ink on the type, “I’ve never seen anything like this being done before. How long did it take you to get that type arranged in that tray?”

  The young man answered, “I’m not as fast as him yet, but it takes hours to get the typesetting done for just one page.”

  “I think it’s fascinating,” said Adam.

  “I reckon you boys are here to check up on how Carteret County’s making out over in the General Assembly, eh?” said Mr. Davis.

  “We came to see family here,” said Martin.

  “Well, depending on when you boys leave, you’ll be able to take the news back before it makes it in the paper.”

  “What news?” asked Adam.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard? They’re passing a piece of legislation, introduced by Mr. Richard Cogdell, that will see a canal built to connect Harlowe Creek to Clubfoot Creek. Beaufort port will have a direct waterway to the Neuse River.”

  Adam and Martin looked at each other in amazement.

  “That’s some good news!” said Martin. “When did they say they’ll get started?”

  “Hmm… not sure, but it’ll be dependent on interested citizens. The Crown won’t pay for it—not with Governor Tryon’s new residence to be built. That’ll cost a small fortune.”

  Adam and Martin stayed and chatted with Mr. Davis a while longer. They found him to be an interesting man, and as it turned out his wife’s family had connections with the Martin family, which opened a whole different line of conversation. After nearly an hour they left and went back to the shops to pick up Laney and Catherine. They helped the ladies load up their parcels—of which there were several—and took them back to the house.

  After that, Adam and Martin said they wanted to walk back down to the business district to look around. They declined Catherine’s offer that they take the carriage, saying they wouldn’t need it and that they would be back in a few hours.

  Chapter Five

  ADAM RETURNED TO THE ESTATE alone late in the afternoon. Martin had stayed behind at a pub by the wharf but promised he’d be back to his cousins’ house in time for supper.

  When Adam came through the front door and into the foyer, he saw Laney and Will sitting in the parlor, which was to the right, just before the staircase, arguing. He could overhear their conversation.

  “If I’d have known she would feel like this—if I’d have even known that she’d be getting hit with all of this news—I don’t know that I’d have even brought her here.”

  Laney was visibly angry with her brother. Adam could tell she must have been talking about Aunt Celie, but he had no idea what had her so upset. He felt awkward walking in on what was clearly a family matter.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Excuse me.”

  He ducked across the foyer and past the entrance to the parlor quickly and started up the stairs.

  “Adam, wait a minute,” Laney called out. “I want to ask you a question.”

  Adam turned around and came back down the stairs and leaned his head into the room. He looked at her, hoping that her question didn’t pertain to the argument she was having with her brother.

  “I want to ask if you think I’m being unreasonable,” said Laney just as sweetly as she could.

  Adam took a deep breath, then looked apologetically from Laney to Will. He had nothing to be sorry about, of course. Laney was the one bringing him into their dispute, but still, if he hadn’t entered the house at that particular time, he wouldn’t have landed himself in the middle of their discussion.

  “Laney,” said Adam. “I don’t have the foggiest idea what y’all are talking about. And I’d just as soon not get in the middle of whatever it is.”

  He smiled at her and hoped she’d let him go on about his business—which involved going to the room he was staying in upstairs and not participating in their argument.

  Laney raised her eyebrows in disappointment and looked at him pleadingly.

  Adam sighed. “I’m sure y’all can work it out—whatever it is.”

  He started to take another step upstairs when Laney called to him again. “Wait!”

  He stopped and slowly turned around.

  “Adam Fletcher,” she said, “you always seemed to me to be a reasonable person. I’d like to have your opinion—as a neutral party. If you think I’m being unreasonable, I’ll take your word for it and drop the matter… maybe.” She looked at her brother.

  Adam glanced over at Will again. He wondered if he shouldn’t just go ahead and hear what Laney had to say so he could be excused from the situation.

  Will tipped his head in his sister’s direction and gave Adam a look as if to say, Come on and help me put an end to her fussing.

  Adam reluctantly came back down the stairs but waited at the landing rather than going all the way into the room. He had no intention of staying in this discussion any longer than he absolutely had to.

  “Alright,” he said to Laney. “What is it you want to know?”

  “Come in here,” she insisted.

  Adam obliged.

  Laney began to make her case. “You know Aunt Celie has been an absolute mess since Old Charles died, and I brought her here so she could spend time with Charles Jr.—for the Christmas season—so it would make
her happy.”

  Adam nodded. “Yes. It’s nice that y’all both can come here and spend the holiday with your families.”

  “Well”—Laney took a deep breath before she began to spill out the details of her frustration—“Aunt Celie is anything but happy right now, because almost as soon as we got here she was informed that not only is her son getting married but that he’s also worked out an arrangement with my brother to buy his freedom.”

  Adam’s eyes grew large. He looked at Will. “Oh really? Well, that’s great news!” Then he looked at Laney and said, “Why in the world is Aunt Celie upset?”

  Will nodded in agreement with Adam. “Exactly! There’s no reason for her to be upset—and that’s what I’m trying to explain to my sister.”

  “You’re not a woman, and you’re not a mother!” Laney said in exasperation. “I don’t know why I would ever think you could understand something like this!”

  “You’re not a mother either,” said Will.

  “Yes, but as a woman I think I have a better understanding of these matters than you do. Aunt Celie thought she was coming here to spend time alone with her son, remembering Old Charles, and enjoying Christmas together. She was also looking forward to mothering him while she was here—cooking for him, cleaning for him, and so forth—but apparently Annabelle has already stepped into that role. And now she feels like he doesn’t need or even want her to take care of him while she’s here. She feels useless!”

  Adam wrinkled his brow, unsure of what to say. No matter. Laney wasn’t finished.

  “And to make matters worse, this business about Charles Jr.’s emancipation has her worried to death!”

  “She’s being ridiculous about it,” said Will.

  Adam nodded in agreement. “I’d think she’d be happy about that. She really is upset?”

  “Yes! She’s fit to be tied!” said Laney. “Aunt Celie has never been fond of changes, and this is just too much change all at once. Not to mention no matter how much I try to tell her she needn’t worry about emancipation changing anything for her or Charles Jr., she simply cannot be consoled.”